Chianti Classico (24 page)

“You must understand. We have hundreds of contractors who work here, especially during the harvest. I wouldn’t keep records on them. I only do that for those I hired directly.

“Is there an agency you use to get contractors when you need them?”

“No. We don’t have any large towns with businesses that handle that. They come to us looking for work. I guess they aren’t really contractors. Let’s call them temporary workers.”

“If he was from around here, do you know if he had a family?”

The manager’s eyebrows rose into perfect Roman arches. “I’m afraid I’m too busy here to know everyone in Rufina.”

“I can imagine,” Sister Tiberia said. “I’d be surprised if you knew many of the people who live here. I suppose you don’t attend church.”

“Thank you, Signor…”

“Signor Pagnozzi.”

Sister Angela stared at the label of the corked bottle in his hand.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t bother my bartender. Please contact me directly if you need more information.” He handed her a card and disappeared through the door with his bottle.

“Nice man,” said Sister Tiberia. “Who was he?”

“He’s one of the owners,” she said, showing her the card. “Let’s find Dino. I hope they didn’t talk him into going on the tour.”

The nuns got a similar response from the second winery. While they were more generous with the flights of wine, they didn’t reveal any more information about the victim.

“I remember him,” said the manager. “He didn’t work very hard. I let him go after the picking season was over.”

“Do you have employment records?” asked Sister Angela.

“No. I don’t keep them on temporaries. If he’d proven to be an asset to the company, I would’ve hired him.”

“Would these temporary seasonal jobs pay well enough for him to live in this area?”

“Unless he was working full time, no. I imagine most temporaries have family to fall back on.”

“Let’s say you were a temporary. If the two largest concerns refused to hire you, where would you go?”

“If I felt I could only do labor in the fields, I guess the only other place would be some of the zone’s startups or small family wineries. We do have some of those. They don’t pay as much as we do, but they still try to compete for workers. Why don’t you visit some of them, Sister?”

From there, the nuns checked on a few of the lesser-known wineries that the first manager recommended. No one seemed to recognize Nocera at all.

“I think we should return home,” said Sister Tiberia. “We don’t seem to be getting anywhere. These smaller wineries don’t serve anything anyway.”

“I’ll need a cup of espresso if you expect me to drive all the way back,” said Dino.

“There’s a small café just as we go into one of the villages,” said Sister Angela. “Maybe there’ll be something to snack on too.”

Dino pulled up to the curb, and the three walked into a café to order coffee and sandwiches. Sister Angela hesitated and grabbed a newspaper on the shelf on the way in. After they ordered, the nun opened the paper and began to read.

“Look at this,” she said, folding back the first few pages. “A small winery in the area is actually growing. It seems to be having an impact on the two large conglomerates we just visited.”

“Why didn’t we call upon them?” asked Sister Tiberia, glancing at her watch. “I guess it would be too late now.”

“It wasn’t on the list the last winemaker gave us. Perhaps that’s because they’re worried this upstart company might grow and become a competitor.”

The waitress brought their food and coffees.

“Have you heard of this winery?” Sister Angela asked the waitress.

“Yes. Their wine’s quite good.”

“May I keep this newspaper?”

“Of course. If you go there to taste their wine, let them know that Stella sent you.”

Sister Angela missed morning prayers and breakfast at the convent. She didn’t show up at the police station until after ten.

“You look drained, Sister,” said Turo. “Perhaps you tasted too much wine yesterday.”

“That must be it,” she said. “We tasted wine but accomplished little else.”

“Then we have to go back and look at our evidence again.”

“I wish we knew who brought Pia to the convent,” said Sister Angela. “That would tell us much more.”

“Did you contact the people who used the child care facility at the avalanche site?”

“Yes. I emailed each one and called those who didn’t respond to the email,” said the nun, sitting in at one of the desks, rocking the chair from side to side. “No one remembers an extra child or anything odd happening during the catastrophe. But I’m not sure that’s so unusual. Most people would be worried about their own situation.”

“What about the bank robbery?”

“The heist told us nothing.”

“Then you don’t believe it was someone who had too few resources and left the child.”

The nun stopped fidgeting. “Nor do I think it involved any of the families who were having marital or monetary difficulties four years ago.”

“What about the car accident?”

“What about it? The car’s gone. We have the driver’s DNA but no other DNA that might indicate that a child was there. We can compare Pia’s DNA with the victim’s, but that’ll take time. It’s been too long since the accident. We must find witnesses to get anything new.”

“Silvio was looking for you earlier today. He’s been continuing to investigate the accident. I sent him out on an errand. He should be back in a couple of hours.”

The nun wasn’t listening. “I know it has something to do with the area around Corsa Pietra. I just don’t know who to approach. Obviously the high-and-mighty Chianti winemakers don’t want to bring unwanted attention to the area. It might hurt them in the middle of the tourist season.”

“I’m not sure that would stop you,” said Turo. “I need some coffee. Did you have breakfast? If not, can I order you something?”

“Please. I didn’t have breakfast because I didn’t feel hungry. But now that I’m back into the middle of clues, I could use a roll of some sort—something light to hold me over until lunch.”

The detective sergeant glanced at his watch. “Why don’t I just get us some lunch? That way we can work through the conventional lunchtime.”

After their meal, Turo decided to continue their conversation. “What makes you say you know it has to do with that zone?”

“Nocera was from Rufina,” said Sister Angela, sweeping the crumbs from the table into the palm of her other hand. “He kidnapped the child and then became a victim himself. There’s got to be a connection.”

“So we have to look at Nocera more closely.”

The nun’s face lit up. “Do you have anything on him?”

“No, but I did write the police in Corsa Pietra. Albeit a short one, our Alrigo Nocera does have a record.”

“What do you mean
short
?”

“Most of his menial crimes were settled outside of court, but he was arrested for disorderly conduct, theft, and public drunkenness.”

“The arrests themselves would tell us where he was working and if he had an
avvocato
, correct?”

“We’re banking on that, yes. The police are forwarding his file. We should have it this afternoon.” He looked at his watch. “In the meantime, Silvio should be back from his assignment. He mentioned needing to speak with you about what he discovered when he went over the evidence again. It would be nice if you could indulge him.”

“Of course I must. Silvio’s got a good head on his shoulders. He’ll make an excellent detective someday. We’re partners.”

Sister Daniela stood on the landing outside the second-floor bedrooms. The chair that Evelina and Grazia both mentioned was no longer in front of the window. Where did it go? She gazed at the vineyard next door.
Who watched over the wine while La Barca was in jail? Would Carlota return in time to help pick the grapes?

The young nun’s eyes dropped to the column of vines that ended at the fence.
What did Grazia tell Sister Angela she’d seen?
She squinted, trying to imagine the victim in a nun’s habit looking back up at her. Grazia told everyone that the full moon made it easy to see the old nun. That was true. The position of a full moon would’ve lit the whole field.
What else did Sister Angela say Grazia told her?

Turning, Sister Daniela hurried down the stairs to the main floor. She could hear the banter of children in the dining room. She looked at her watch. She had fifteen minutes before she had to be back in the classroom.

The chatter stopped the second she set foot in the dining room. She eyed the group and found Grazia on the far side of the table, awkwardly gathering her dishes to deliver to the kitchen counter.

Sister Daniela crossed the room and offered her assistance. “Let me help you, Grazia. It looks like you have too many dishes to take all at once.”

“Thank you, Sister Daniela. I spilled on my blouse. I must go up to my room and put on a clean one before class starts.”

Sister Daniela dropped off the dishes and followed the young girl up the stairs. Grazia found her clean shirt and began to change. “You mentioned to Sister Angela that the old nun had a sparkly ring, didn’t you?”

“Yes. It was beautiful.”

“Grazia,” the nun said. “I ran into someone the other day. He told me he belonged to you. Did I understand him correctly?” She removed the pink stuffed animal from her pocket.

Grazia’s eyes lit up. “That’s Sampson. He’s my friend.”

The nun let her give the elephant a hug. “Do you want to know where I found him?”

Grazia looked up at the nun, her eyes hinting that she knew. “Yes, I don’t know where I could have left him.”

“What about at your
fortezza
?”

“It isn’t a fortress. It’s a castle.”

“It looked very comfortable.” When Grazia turned to leave, Sister Daniela gently clutched her arm. “Did the old nun come to the door while you were in your castle?”

“The nun held up her hands in prayer. I thought she was cold outside.”

“When? When you were at the window that night?”

“No. She was in the field the night before.” Tears filled her eyes. “I saw her in the field. She wanted to come in.”

“But you didn’t go down to let her in that night did you.”

“No. I worried about her all the next day. The following night I saw her again. I pointed to the back of the orphanage.”

“Why? Evelina had locked all the doors. Did you go down again?”

“No. I didn’t go to bed when she told us to. I hid in the bathroom. When I heard Evelina climb the stairs, I went back to the castle and unlatched the door to the landing.”

“How did you get into your castle room?”

Grazia turned over the pink elephant and worked her tiny fingers into the seam under its ribbon collar. After wrestling with it for a few seconds, she pulled out a key.

“But how did the door get locked again after the old nun left with Pia?”

“You can lock the passage door by pushing the button before closing it. The interior door automatically locks.” She finally gazed up at Sister Daniela’s face. “I didn’t know she would take Pia. I thought she was a real nun.”

“Where’s the old nun’s ring?”

“What do you mean?”

Sister Daniela took the elephant from the little girl and stuck her fingers through the seam. She could feel it but not get it out. She handed it back to Grazia. “We need the ring as evidence. Please remove it and give it to me,” she said.

Grazia reached inside and produced the diamond-encrusted men’s ring. “Am I kicked out of the orphanage?”

Sister Daniela winked at her. “I’ll tell Sister Carmela and Sister Natalia that you’re my special assistant. I don’t think they’ll be too angry. Please hurry. Class is starting.”

On the way down the two flights of stairs, the young nun slipped her phone out of her pocket and dialed Sister Angela.

Silvio made an appearance in the early afternoon, offering to show the nun something at the accident site. Donning a helmet, Sister Angela grudgingly climbed on board the back of the motorbike, and Silvio revved the engine.

“I don’t know why we don’t just walk,” she shouted near his ear, but he didn’t seem to be able to hear her.

The motorbike slowed as Silvio guided it onto the dirt road and then sped up until the dust trail from the front wheel blew back over his passenger’s helmet. By the time the two arrived at the site, Sister Angela could taste the grit between her teeth and spat, attempting to dislodge some of it.

Silvio retrieved a file from a saddlebag below Sister Angela’s seat. “This is what I found out about the car accident that took place here four years ago. The automobile was coming from the same turnoff we used when we left the highway. The female driver was followed by another car.”

“You can’t prove that.”

“Wait a minute. The report of the accident said that the car couldn’t have been hit from behind because there were no dings across the back fender. More likely, she drove off the road on her own and slid into a tree over here.”

“What tree?” the nun asked, shading her eyes and looking all around her.

“There was a tree there. It’s in the photo. Someone must have chopped it down.”

“They called it a hit and run in the report
I
saw.”

“But that wasn’t the final report. This one is. No one followed up on this because the case was closed.”

“If she was driving in the same direction we just were, the tree would’ve caved in the passenger side,” said Sister Angela. “This report doesn’t agree with the one the medical examiner gave us.”

“I believe it was more complicated than that. There’s a small possibility the car got turned around before it hit the tree.”

“There was no one else involved?”

“If I drive too fast on this dry dirt, my bike starts to fishtail. If I slam on the breaks in a fishtail, I turn my bike all the way around.”

“I wonder how many time you had to prove that to yourself. I believe you, but that doesn’t drive you into a tree.”